For the Ed
by Dustbunny3
Summary: [One-shot][Gen or EdEddEddy] Ed works, Double Dee plays favorites and Eddy is annoyed.
A/N: Man, I suck at crossposting... Anyway! I wrote this last year for Eddy Appreciation Week on Tumblr. This was the third fic I did for that week, is the first time Eddy dominates the narrative aaand it goes poorly for him. Do I know how to appreciate my favorite character or what? Takes place a few years on and features the Eds living together as adults. Could easily be gen or polyship- really, where's the line with these guys? Enjoy!

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Ed got pretty weird when he was in his creative zone. Eddy didn't actually know what the difference between that weirdness and his usual weirdness was, only that Double Dee had a lot more tolerance for creative zone weirdness. How _Double Dee_ knew the difference, Eddy didn't know. He was actually pretty sure Double Dee didn't really know the difference and only said all that junk about respecting the creative process to sound smart. Probably decided when to be tolerant based on how many notebooks Ed had around him at a given time.

So, what it actually came down to was that Ed was weird and so was Double Dee. It also came down to Double Dee being plain _unfair_ , what with his deciding to let Ed slide for something Eddy got complained at for. When Eddy built a pillow fort, he couldn't get away with it by saying it helped him think.

"How do you expect me to write the next great American novel in these conditions?" he'd demanded as Double meticulously refolded the blankets he'd confiscated from Eddy's fort.

"Oh, _please_ ," Double Dee had scoffed. "You're not going to write the next great American novel."

"Not if I have to deal with that kinda attitude!"

Ed just stood back and laughed.

And, sure enough, without the support of those he should have been able to count on to support him, Eddy had not made any progress on the next great American novel. But shoving the coffee table out of the way and piling pillows and blankets and the couch cushions in its place was apparently totally fine when _Ed_ decided it would help him work on his next creepy niche comic book.

It wasn't even a good fort, one that Eddy could appreciate while it was (unfairly) allowed to last. There were two walls on either side of where Ed had settled himself, kinda, but nothing connecting them, no roof. Ed had arranged and rearranged for over an hour before he was satisfied, and what he'd come up with was more like a lumpy nest than anything. A nest with walls for some reason. But he was also sitting among what amounted to almost a nest of papers inside the nest, so it was allowed to stay. Double Dee's jaw had dropped when he'd come home to the mess, but in the end he'd only sighed and shaken his head with an indulgent smile.

Eddy, for his part, stood and grumbled in the front room, making sure that the others could both see and hear how upset he was. Double Dee had shot him a look and rolled his eyes but said nothing even when Eddy directed his complaints at him specifically. He hadn't even said anything when it visibly dawned on him that he couldn't sit down on the couch and work on the coffee table like normal. Eddy had smirked then, and sniggered just to make sure Double Dee was aware of it. That had gotten him another look before Double Dee hesitated, then addressed Ed.

"Ed? I don't mean to interrupt, but–"

" _Shhh_ ," Ed cut him off, holding up the hand he wasn't using to tap his pencil against the side of his head.

The look on Double Dee's face was priceless and Eddy's annoyance was forgotten in favor of laughing at it.

"Yeah, Double Dee," he mocked, " _shhh_. You'll unjive all his creative energies."

Ed made a vague kind of humming grunt. Eddy wasn't sure that actually meant Ed was agreeing with him, but he still smirked all the wider and jerked a thumb at him like a point had been proven.

Double Dee pinched his nose, grumbled a little, then tried another simpering appeal. "Honestly, Ed, it's good to see you so hard at work, but I have my own work to do and you know I prefer–"

Ed looked up like a startled dog, making both Double Dee and Eddy jump. He didn't say anything, just stared without blinking at Double Dee. His eyes shifted from Double Dee's face to the folders in his arms and back again in rapid succession, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. Eddy and Double Dee shared a look when this went on for almost a whole minute. Eddy shrugged and gestured with his hand for Double Dee to figure it out.

"Um," said Double Dee. "So, if you could just spare one cushion and let me pull the table up–"

"Sorry, Double Dee," Ed said, voice loud in the quiet, "no can do. I got all this stuff arranged just how I need it and I can't put it back until I'm done or I'll have to start all over again."

"Well, then, if you could give me an estimate of when you plan to be finished?"

"It could be days," Ed said in that odd wistful-solemn way he had sometimes, looking off into the distance (or maybe at the wall clock). He held his pose and his peace for a few seconds before going back to staring at the notebook in his lap and tapping his pencil against the side of his head just as if he'd never stopped.

Eddy promptly began sniggering again, exaggerating looking away when Double Dee sent a glare his way. Double Dee looked between the two of them, squinting like he thought they might be trying to get one over on him, his fingers tapping on his folders. He could always work at the kitchen table or something, but he was a guy set in his routines, had been for years, and his routine was working in the living room.

Apparently even his weird tolerance for Ed's creative zone weirdness couldn't stand against his love for routines, because he drew himself up, squared his shoulders and said, "Ed, I really must insist–"

Ed moved so fast that Eddy almost missed it, reaching out and snagging Double Dee around the middle to pull him against Ed's side in the nest fort. Double Dee was still sputtering when Ed lunged forward and dragged the coffee table close, just a few inches short of the front of his two walls.

"Best I can do for ya, Double Dee," Ed said without looking at him. He was back to his staring and tapping, but now with one arm draped over Double Dee's shoulders.

Double Dee opened his mouth to protest, then shut it with a sigh. There was some grumbling as he wriggled around and set out his folders on the table, but even that quieted as he got started on his work at last.

Eddy crossed his arms at the display, staring turning to glaring as Double Dee got more and more absorbed in his work and Ed kept trying to find the answers to life's questions (like they needed to go through that again) on his blank notebook page. They looked cozy, sitting there and working side by side, Ed's arm still around Double Dee's shoulders and Double Dee occasionally leaning against Ed's side as he considered his papers. In another circumstance, Eddy might even join them.

Throwing his hands in the air, he made a sound of disgust so that they would pay enough attention to realize that he was _refusing_ to join them. He didn't bother looking to see if they ignored him as he flounced out of the room. Not like he could work on the next great American novel in those conditions.

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In case anyone is wondering, no, Eddy has no actual plans to write the next great American novel. He's just being a brat, the little dickens.


End file.
